The Silenced
by Seeker of Solitude
Summary: Harry Potter Hellsing Crossover. When a boy is the sole survivor of the massacre of Private Dr. an ancient demon takes him into possession. Can this boy overcome his ghastly past and overcome the troubles of the not so far future? Find out in: The Silenc
1. Prelude: A Brief Glimpse

The Silenced

Prelude

A Brief Glimpse.

Stop for a moment. Let your imagination take hold. For once let reason soar out to the heavens and let those long lost dreams take hold.

Think back to a time when you were a child; so young, so carefree, so innocent.

This is a story about a child. But not one so carefree, not one so wild. This is one not of a make you have yet to ever see. Or, for that matter, are you likely to see at all.

For this is a child taught from infancy to stay hidden. From the start had to learn a hard lesson. One lesson that not many will have to learn at all.

This child who has not yet reached his seventh year in this world and has learned the lesson of rejection, the lesson of fear, and the lesson of the most importance of which has been demanded of them; the lesson of obedience.

This child has been brought up in a world of sorrow, of toils and of hardships. And yet hope still shines in his eyes, the undying hope of one who has nothing else. And yet the hope still shines in his dull eyes, desperately wishing for an escape.

This child has never known his own name. He can only ever recall being referred to as 'The Boy'. He knows he must have had a name once but it had been another lifetime ago and he doubted even 'Sir' or 'Ma'am' could remember it.

The young boy was the property of a family of three. Although you and I know this to be illegal, it was all the boy ever had known, and 'Sir' and 'Ma'am' would never correct him on the idea.

As it was, he was to do all of the work around the house as well as taking care of the yards. And 'young sir' delighted in making more work for him.

If the boy thought this to be unfair he would not dare voice his opinions. That was rule number one in his long unwritten book of rules.

Do Not Make Noise.

The less noise you make, the less you are noticed. Being noticed always resulted in pain. There was no escaping that. Oh yes, the two constants in the young child's life; chores and pain.

If you make noise: pain.

If you complain: pain.

If you so much as whimper: pain.

You may find yourself appalled by the conditions this child is in. You may think to yourself. _What kind of people would do this to a child! _

Well, let's just check in and see.


	2. The Beginning

The Silenced

1

The Beginning

Last time:

_The less noise you make, the less you are noticed. Being noticed always resulted in pain. There was no escaping that. Oh yes, the two constants in the young child's life; chores and pain. _

_If you make noise: pain._

_If you complain: pain._

_If you so much as whimper: pain._

_You may find yourself appalled by the conditions this child is in. You may think to yourself. What kind of people would do this to a child! _

_Well, let's just check in and see._

Now:

"I want this boy out of my house, this is the last straw!" An enraged Vernon Dursley shouted on a warm June night.

"What has the wretch done now?" His wife Petunia asked as she peaked through the door that lead from the kitchen and into the hall.

She could see her husband towering over her freak of a nephew. Whatever the boy had done now, she knew he certainly deserved the punishment he was sure to get.

"The boy has purposely destroyed your prized yard! He saw the attention you got for it and wanted it all to himself. Today he was to do the yard work but he purposely destroyed our yard. The lawn is a mess!" Vernon raged at the boy while answering his wife.

Spittle flew out of his mouth as he yelled and it landed all over the boy's face. But the boy made no attempt to wipe it off.

Movement warranted attention and that was not something he wanted at the moment. He had been in the yard since seven that morning and it had not been until after dinner time that same day that Sir had finally come to check on him.

He had done the flowerbeds, painted the fence, trimmed the hedges, washed the car and even cleaned the gutter (which was quite a feat without access to a ladder). But when he had tried to mow the lawn the mower had been out of gas. Knowing if he tried to ask for gas he would be inviting pain; he had tried the old push mower.

It had gone well until halfway through the lawn. He had hit a rock and the settings had gotten knocked out of place and changed.

Instead of the 3-inch blades of grass that Ma'am demanded, it was now set to one inch and you could see the soil and, God forbid, bugs beneath the grass!

The boy had not noticed the difference. It had gotten harder to push the mower, but he had passed it off as fatigue. What six-year-old was expected to do nine hours of yard work with only hot water out of the hose to sustain him and not be exhausted?

He had almost finished mowing the entire yard, front and back. His aching muscles and sweat dripping into his eyes obstructing his already poor vision and this was when an enraged Sir had come barrelling out of the house to check his progress.

When he had seen the mess of a yard he stormed right up to the boy and grabbed him by the collar of what could have been called his shirt. For the shirt was nothing more then a rag.

Sir and Ma'am had never permitted the boy to have any clothes of his own and God forbid they allow him to wear their sweet Dudley's old clothes, like an equal!

No, the boy had been handed a few threadbare towels and a ruined tablecloth and had been told to 'make your own clothes, it's more then you're worth.'

At four years old he had made his single outfit and it had been pretty impressive what he had been able to do with it. But after 2 years of constant wear and tear along with beatings and strenuous chores that he had been made to do, the 'clothes' had more holes then they did cloth.

Sir dragged the boy through the house and into the front hall where we find ourselves now watching the quivering young boy, the enraged beast of a man and the uncaring woman of the house.


	3. The Setup

The Silenced

2

The Set-up

Last time:

_At four years old he had made his single outfit and it had been pretty impressive what he had been able to do with it. But after 2 years of constant wear and tear along with beatings and strenuous chores that he had been made to do, the 'clothes' had more holes then they did cloth._

_Sir dragged the boy through the house and into the front hall where we find ourselves now watching the quivering young boy, the enraged beast of a man and the uncaring woman of the house._

Now:

"Why do you feel the need to destroy everything boy," Sir screamed at the boy. "Answer me!"

Knowing he would get no answer, the man was not surprised when none was given; no one in the house had actually heard the boy speak. The boy was able to, but to do so would be breaking one of the many 'rules of survival'.

"Feel you're above us, eh boy?" Sir asked angrily. He slammed a massive fist into the boy's stomach.

The boy winced but did little else. He was used to the beatings and knew that it was best not to show how much it really hurt. Besides he knew there was worse to come; Sir had just had his evening drink, he could smell it on his breath.

"You little freak, I will teach you not to destroy my property again." And with that Sir began to beat the boy. He even went as far as to use his belt; a nice leather belt with a heavy brass buckle.

Within a few minutes of the belt being introduced the boy slipped into unconsciousness.

After another half hour or so Sir decided he had had enough. Snarling in disgust he grabbed the boy by his unruly black hair and dragged him back outside.

By this time the sun had gone down and the street lights were jus blinking to life but there was not a soul to be seen on Privite Drive.

The man dragged the boy to the family car and unlocked the trunk. He threw the boy in and slammed the trunk down, not being mindful of anything that may have still been partway out of the trunk. He smirked to himself and headed back toward the house. Thinking he would take care of the boy tomorrow.

Luckily for the boy there had been nothing for the trunk to slam on. His diminished size due to malnutrition had seen to it that he would be able to fit in the trunk just fine. This may also have stemmed from the fact that this boy had 'grown' up in a closet.

If Sir had waited just a few more minutes to lock the boy in the trunk he may have seen what was approaching. Or if he had decided to deal with the boy that night and had taken him out to the woods like he was planning, he may have escaped his grizzly fate. But as it was he did not and as such could not.

For coming up the street not two minutes away came an army of ghouls. Enough to make hardened men wet themselves in fear and lesser men turn coward and flee.

For those of you who are lucky enough to be unaware of what a ghoul is I will now explain it to you.

Despite popular belief a ghoul is not something that hangs out with ghosts and scares little children on Halloween. A ghoul is a ghastly product, one that did not choose its own fate.

You see, a ghoul is the by-product of a victim of a vampire. Now you may think to yourself 'but I thought vampires' victims become vampires as well.' This is only half true.

The victim would turn into a vampire if not for one determining factor, virginity. If the victim is a virgin then a new vampire is born. But if the victim has already lost theirs then all is lost for the victim.

You may think 'alright, being a ghoul doesn't seem too bad' but think of it like this. First you are attacked, scared for your life, right up until the point you loose it and now you are dead. But your soul, instead of moving on is forcefully put back into your dead, and most likely devastated, body.

After the shock of that you realize you no longer have control of yourself. If that is not bad enough it so happens that the one who control you is the one who killed you.

So now you are a dead body with no control of yourself with an all consuming thirst for human blood.

And with this we must leave the boy locked in the truck of a car with the only life he has ever know about to be devastated by an army of dead brainless monsters advancing on his neighbourhood.


	4. Introductions

The Silenced

3

Introductions

Last time:

_You may think 'alright, being a ghoul doesn't seem too bad' but think of it like this. First you are attacked, scared for your life, right up until the point you loose it and now you are dead. But your soul, instead of moving on is forcefully put back into your dead, and most likely devastated, body._

_After the shock of that you realize you no longer have control of yourself. If that is not bad enough it so happens that the one who control you is the one who killed you._

_So now you are a dead body with no control of yourself with an all consuming thirst for human blood._

_And this is where we must leave the boy locked in the truck of a car with the only life he has ever know about to be devastated by an army of dead brainless monsters advancing on his neighbourhood. _

Now:

When we were last looking into Private Drive we saw an army of ghouls advancing onto an unsuspecting neighbourhood, a young unconscious boy trapped in the trunk of a car and an infuriated blond woman waiting for a report.

Oh! We have not touched on this yet, have we? No? Well it's about time them.

This infuriated blond woman was none other than Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing; leader of the Hellsing Organization.

You have not heard of her?

Well it is no wonder as this organization is kept well out of the public's eye. Because this organization was made in order to prevent the teaming hoards of undead monsters; and their creators.

Now I see this has your attention.

Yes, there are groups out there devoted to saving your hide from these horrible creatures, but most of these groups war with each other. You see, they are religious groups with a long history of hate for each other and this only causes them to become disorganized in their fight against these monsters.

Take this for an example.

There are two main groups in this area set on destroying these atrocities, Sector 13 of the Vatican and Hellsing; these two are always stepping on each others toes when it comes to territory. And when they are not going on about this they start arguing about the others' beliefs in their religion.

So yes there are groups out there trying to keep you safe from the vampires and ghouls, but they have a lot of problems of their own.

Now back to Sir Hellsing.

She is currently sitting in an army tent on the outskirts of Surry waiting for a report. Let's look in on her.

"This should not be that difficult. If you had followed the proper procedure in these types of situations, this mess would have been cleared up long before it reached the point it is at now." She stated calmly as she stared down the chief inspector. "I do believe you were given a briefing on this in your training."

"Well yes Sir, but none of us actually believed it, come on vampires, demons, it all seemed like a big joke. You know the higher ups having a bit of fun with the new recruits." The man replied; sweat dripping from his brow as the intimidating female commander sternly berated him.

"It does not seem like a joke now does it? Your town, your people, your men all of this could be lost. If you had just done as you were told most of this damage could have been prevented." She said shaking her head. "What were you thinking, you knew the situation and still sent in your men, even after you knew what you were up against you did not even call for an evacuation. This is a large suburban area with women and children thousands of them, all unaware of what is coming straight for them. You let this hoard grow, feeding it with your men, your friends. And you sat there knowing what _should_ have been done while this continued."

The chief inspector hung his head in shame. "There is no excuse for my behaviour; I just thought we could deal with this on our own, without having to call in 'specialists'.

"No," Integra glared at the man, "You were not thinking about having to call anyone in, you were thinking of the raise you may have gotten if you could 'deal with the problem' now you have a bigger problem on your hands. You have me."

The man slumped in his chair, knowing this woman was correct. He had sent everyone in all the while thinking of the raise he was sure to get. Oh god, he had even sent in his dear friend Peter even after the reports had stopped coming. There was no hope of ever seeing him again. "I am horrid person."

"That you are," she replied, "Now Walter, where is my report, we sent him in over an hour ago, we should be hearing something by now."

An older man stepped out of the shadows in the tent. The chief inspector had barely given him a glance when he had entered. "You know him; it is not often he gets a chance to 'stretch his legs' so to speak. Just give him some more time. If you are getting concerned we can always send in Miss. Victoria after him." Walter replied.

"No, not this time. I know he will be here when good and ready."

And it was true 'he' was here best weapon against these demons as he was one himself. Yes a 'tame' vampire, an ancient being who 'worked' for her family since a time beyond her knowledge. But this is a tale for another time; all we need to know right now is that this creature's name, for the time being at least, is Alucard. And he is advancing on a destroyed Private Drive as we speak killing off ghouls and finishing off already dead humans before they too are forced to live in that nightmare.


	5. The Heartbeat

The Silenced

4

The Heartbeat

Last time:

_An older man stepped out of the shadows in the tent. The chief inspector had barely given him a glance when he had entered. "You know him; it is not often he gets a chance to 'stretch his legs' so to speak. Just give him some more time. If you are getting concerned we can always send in Miss. Victoria after him." Walter replied._

"_No, not this time. I know he will be here when good and ready."_

_And it was true 'he' was here best weapon against these demons as he was one himself. Yes a 'tame' vampire, an ancient being who 'worked' for her family from a time beyond her knowledge. But this is a tale for another time; all we need to know right now is that this creature's name, for the time being at least, is Alucard. And he is advancing on a destroyed Private Drive as we speak killing off ghouls and finishing off already dead humans before they too are forced to live in that nightmare. _

Now:

Through the smouldering buildings he walked. Killing all that moved and some that could not. One wonders what could possibly be going through a mind while they are doing this type of work. But it matters not.

As he walked through the ruins of what was, half an hour before, a quite normal suburban street he heard something surprising; the sound of a beating heart.

This was really surprising. Although ghouls are incredibly slow and most certainly stupid, they leave nothing alive. He followed the sound and it brought him to the remains of a house. He had killed the ghouls in the area and he started to look for the source of the sound. At this point everything that had once been living in this area should now be dead.

Perhaps something had wandered in after the attack? No, that could not be right. Before he arrived there had still been ghouls wandering around out there. Nothing would have come this way. But then why did he hear a heartbeat?

Stepping over a few corpses he found himself back in the remains of the entranceway.

'_I have searched every property in the neighbourhood. Surely this person could not have survived outside.'_

But this seemed to be the case; as he looked out at the ruins the heartbeat was definitely louder, but it sounded weak.

'_It must have been a slow transformation.' _He thought to himself.

He had seen it slowed before, if bitten on a limb a tourniquet could delay the inevitable by up to three hours. But unless you were to bleed-out all of the 'toxins', the transformation could not be stopped. But even bleeding-out does not guarantee survival, must die soon after due to blood loss.

'_I had better find them soon, put them out of their misery, heh.'_

Alucard made his way towards the street but as he moved further from the house the fainter the heartbeat became.

'_They must be in the yard, but where? _ As he thought this he swept the yard with his eyes, it was obviously well kept. The flowerbeds were still intact, each flower the same size as its predecessor. The hedges were neatly trimmed, the remains of the fence looked freshly painted in fact he could still catch a small whiff of paint fumes. The only oddity that did not look to be caused by the night's events was an area in the grass that was cut much shorter then the rest.

"It's so perfectly normal, pathetic." He scoffed. His eyes rested on the only place anyone could use for hiding in the yard, a heavily damaged car.

'_It would seem that I am not the only one who has come in search of this heart.'_

Circling the car he immediately knew they were not in the cab. If the blown out windshield did not show this then the lack of a left side passenger door was a definite sign.

'_So the trunk then.'_

With strength unknown to the common man, he pulled the lock right out of the back. He slowly opened the dented trunk which emitted a slow deep creek.

The sight that greeted him surprised him greatly, although you would not be able to tell by outward appearances.

He had been expecting to see someone who was on the verge of succumbing to their cruel fate. Someone who could barely fit into the one protective place they could find. Perhaps even the owner of the car. But seeing a young boy, fighting to breathe, obviously beaten, but no marks from that which had just devastated the community not a half an hour before, this was the last thing Alucard expected to find.

He visually inspected the boy.

'_The outcome will be the same in the end. This child will not survive the next hour. To think that he is one of the few to ever survive in the vicinity of so many ghouls but he will succumb to what a true monster has done.'_ He sadly shook his head.

As if sensing Alucard's thoughts the boy's breathing became more laboured.

"And so another life must end," Alucard whispered. But to his surprise the boy did not breathe his last. In fact his eyes fluttered open.

"Please, help me." A weak voice croaked through a swollen jaw.

Alucard stared at the boy.

"I just want," There was a long pause as the boy struggled for air, "to live." His eyes were unfocused but even still they seemed to stare into Alucard's very being.

'_Master will not be happy,'_ he thought. A small smirk tugged at his lips.

Lifting the boy from the trunk of the car he was careful not to jar any of the numerous injuries.

A small whimper was all he heard and once more he looked into the boy's emerald eyes; eyes that seemed to plead with him to end the pain.

Breaking the gaze he lowered his mouth to the child's neck. He gave him what he had asked for, life; A life that would last forever.

When he finished he savoured the remaining blood in his mouth. It had truly been too long since he had consumed fresh blood.

As he savoured the blood he contemplated the taste. You can find a lot out about a person's life by the flavours in their blood.

'_The boy is young, but not as young as his size indicates.'_ He picked the boy up once more and started walking in the direction he knew his master would be. _'The boy is strong but not healthy. But that is to be expected with the condition I found him in.' _

There was something strange though, a strange tangy taste on the back of his tongue. A flavour he could not quite place. Something very unusual.

'_What is this flav…'_

"Shit." Alucard stopped walking, his eyes snapped to the child he was carrying. The child had magic!


End file.
